THERE WAS TIME FOR STORIES

THERE WAS TIME FOR STORIES

 

THERE WAS TIME FOR STORIES

 

 

Vandalism at the Farmers Valley cemetery makes me think of the value of telling stories passed down by generations.

 

I value the stories my Mom told us about her girlhood days.  She told us about the days when the Misner Players came to town and stayed at the hotel in Henderson. Her friend Goldie Misner lived in the hotel.  The Misner Players were actors who would put on plays, many times it was Shakespeare.  She never forgot Goldie, she was her oldest and best friend.  These traveling acting groups entertained in the opera houses.  Almost every town had an opera house.  Grandpa ran the livery barn and he was a pretty wild guy.  She said whenever they went anywhere he would take the wildest horses and scare her to death.  During prohibition days there were always places to get bootleg booze and Grandpa had a weekness for it.  Grandma could not read or write so Mom wrote a note and delivered it to the owner. She said if they didn’t quit selling it to Grandpa they would turn him in.  I don’t know if it did any good. 

 

After she graduated from grade school, they moved to a farm in Farmers Valley.  She could not attend High School.  She told of getting ice from the Blue River and storing it in the ice house.  The river was so clean they could make lemonade and use the ice. She  worked at many homes when the mom would have a baby.  She would have to stay with the family and she got so homesick she would really get ill.  I think that is why she was so sad when one of us left home.  It was almost unbearable for her.

 

During these years she met Dad.  He went to Bethel Academy in Newton, Kansas and then returned to teach country school.  He went to York college in the summer and later taught school in Henderson.  Some time during these years he came to Farmers Valley to see Mom.  They made a lot of new friends because now he had a car and they could go places.  She was always close to her family and they depended on her.  She was a very good seamstress and sewed for her little sisters.  She adored her brother, Dan.  I have pictures of some of these friends from Farmers Valley. They went to Sutton for entertainment.  There was always a rivalry between Henderson and Sutton.

 

There is so much good in passing on stories that teach kids where they came from. Maybe if they understand the generations before them, they will respect things that their ancestors left behind.  I cannot imagine destroying a cemetery, or even using it for a beer party.  Is there so much anger in these people that they have to destroy something so sacred?  Or have we neglected to spend time with them to tell stories.  A good deal of it is a Gang Mentality.  Things just get out of hand.  I really have a lot of hope for our kids.  They have so many opportunities, I just hope they use them wisely. 

 

So I am old enough to give advice, but young enough to remember being young. And my Mom was beautiful.

 

 

 

Vandalism at the Farmers Valley cemetery makes me think of the value of telling stories passed down by generations.

 

I value the stories my Mom told us about her girlhood days.  She told us about the days when the Misner Players came to town and stayed at the hotel in Henderson. Her friend Goldie Misner lived in the hotel.  The Misner Players were actors who would put on plays, many times it was Shakespeare.  She never forgot Goldie, she was her oldest and best friend.  These traveling acting groups entertained in the opera houses.  Almost every town had an opera house.  Grandpa ran the livery barn and he was a pretty wild guy.  She said whenever they went anywhere he would take the wildest horses and scare her to death.  During prohibition days there were always places to get bootleg booze and Grandpa had a weekness for it.  Grandma could not read or write so Mom wrote a note and delivered it to the owner. She said if they didn’t quit selling it to Grandpa they would turn him in.  I don’t know if it did any good. 

 

After she graduated from grade school, they moved to a farm in Farmers Valley.  She could not attend High School.  She told of getting ice from the Blue River and storing it in the ice house.  The river was so clean they could make lemonade and use the ice. She  worked at many homes when the mom would have a baby.  She would have to stay with the family and she got so homesick she would really get ill.  I think that is why she was so sad when one of us left home.  It was almost unbearable for her.

 

During these years she met Dad.  He went to Bethel Academy in Newton, Kansas and then returned to teach country school.  He went to York college in the summer and later taught school in Henderson.  Some time during these years he came to Farmers Valley to see Mom.  They made a lot of new friends because now he had a car and they could go places.  She was always close to her family and they depended on her.  She was a very good seamstress and sewed for her little sisters.  She adored her brother, Dan.  I have pictures of some of these friends from Farmers Valley. They went to Sutton for entertainment.  There was always a rivalry between Henderson and Sutton.

 

There is so much good in passing on stories that teach kids where they came from. Maybe if they understand the generations before them, they will respect things that their ancestors left behind.  I cannot imagine destroying a cemetery, or even using it for a beer party.  Is there so much anger in these people that they have to destroy something so sacred?  Or have we neglected to spend time with them to tell stories.  A good deal of it is a Gang Mentality.  Things just get out of hand.  I really have a lot of hope for our kids.  They have so many opportunities, I just hope they use them wisely. 

 

So I am old enough to give advice, but young enough to remember being young. And my Mom was beautiful.

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Published in: on August 23, 2013 at 7:49 pm  Leave a Comment  

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